Heartfelt
by heroictype
Summary: Grace in light and darkness, the reds of both roses and blood. Be it in happiness or pain, their hearts now share a nature. A collection of Mytho/Rue drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

So, this is probably going to be where all tiny little Rue/Mytho drabbles I write from now on will go, if they are worth posting. This first one is... shamelessly cheesy, but I love the idea of them being cute together post-series. ;;

I never have enough to say here. I'm sorry. orz

Princess Tutu and all related characters do not belong to me. They are Itoh Ikoku's.

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><p>The snow frosted the world sweetly, doubling the sun's brightness. Rue hovered in the threshold of the palace, watching her prince as he graced the ground with the soft shadows of his footprints. Siegfried shimmered more cleanly than the whiteness beneath him, and she saw the pale warmth of his smile flare as he turned to his princess. To her.<p>

Her heart would never be still at such thoughts, it would always join with them, pounding their rhythm as they danced across her mind.

"Come now, my princess... Let's walk together, shall we?" His hands pinwheeled above his head, and then he offered her one in a fanciful invitation to join him in the snow. Of course, he was clad in full court apparel, gold embroidery flashing up his sleeves, but the mischievous glint in his eyes sparked more grandly. She lifted a smoothly questioning eyebrow, but along with it, the corner of her mouth, and the hem of her skirt as she stepped out to him.

He merely nodded, his satisfaction perfectly regal, and raised himself in an majestic pirouette. He swirled in the snow, one strikingly delicate turn, but when he lowered to propel himself about once more, his heel caught in the slick mud. All the swift power he had meant to put into exquisite beauty carried him to the icy ground.

His landed with a decided lack of elegance, in fact, he might have been bruised, if nowhere but his pride. But that was only a fraction of the reason for his curiously startled expression. The other was flitting around him, a rare treasure that he did not find often enough even now. Rue was laughing, and it was beautiful.

"Oh, princess, how cruel!" He regarded her with mock offense, but his own laughter slipped with more grace than he had from the edges of his teasing frown. His lacy fingers claimed her hand, and he gently tugged her down beside him. "Well, even so, I would have you join me."

She went willingly, even as the snow was quick to soak her own fine silks, curling her arms around him. She murmured into his ear, "Of course. Of course, dear Siegfried. I wouldn't love anything more."

He secured an arm around her shoulders, and they fell into the snow in one motion; the cold shock drenching their backs knocking more breathless laughter from them both. He reached across, brushing a cluster of crystalline flakes from her wetly shining hair, to no great effect. "Ah... But perhaps I'm a cruel prince. If your loveliness could be ruined, then I would have done it."

"And your own, as well," She chided him, shaking her head, but her disapproval was belied by an amused smirk as she combed her fingers through his swan-feather locks. He dismissed the notion with a true grin, and her blush quickly rose over coherency. He caressed her cheek, together enjoying his cool fingertips against her flushed skin before he threw his arm out beside him and swished it over the ground to graze away a layer of snow. Her pristinely sharp features mellowed as innocent inquiry took its place on them, and she soon mimicked the motion.

It wasn't long before he guided her upright, hopping neatly away from where they had lain to clasp her to his chest. He tipped her chin up lightly, and she beamed shyly back into his eyes. He indicated the ground beside them with a faint wave.

"See, my princess? We made an angel. Something beautiful, however disheveled we might have made ourselves for it."


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, drabbles... Short and silly. Also somewhat overwrought. AND ONE DAY, I'll right something not dripping with cheese. B-but these two. I love 'em.

Again, Itoh Ikoku's characters, and Princess Tutu is hers, not mine.

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><p>Siegfried wrapped his arms around her from behind, and Rue pressed her cheek against his. He breathed into her ear, his voice low and embroidered with courtly kindness.<p>

"Am I disturbing you, Rue?"

She shook her head, tipping a shaded glance his direction from the furthest corners of her crimson eyes and replying serenely. "Never, my prince."

He chuckled. A sharp gasp faded softly against his face as he leaned over her, one arm thrown out above them excitedly, and the other following the course of her spine as she hovered with only him between her body and the ground. He supported her in the dip without effort, because supporting Rue was as natural and necessary as the sunrise every morning. The first bursting glow against his eyelids that had lifted him from sleep in a prison of poisoned feathers, and that now roused him into life and all its flavors. True sun on his skin, the tide of danced steps over marble, the scent of flowers and her hair.

His smile teased her affectionately; his hand came down to play over her face, her hand came up to hold it close. The smile became a kiss against her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

Just enough quick, silly little thing. You can never have too much Rue/Mytho fluff, after all~

As per usual, Princess Tutu and all its characters belong to Itoh Ikoku.

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><p>Siegfried had met Rue's eyes in the mirror as he entered the room, but it still startled her when he wrapped his hand around hers, halting the flow of the brush through her hair as he caught a strand between his fingers. With a touch like woven light, he traced the feathery darkness to its tip wonderingly, tenderly, his eyes aglow with the simple sensation. A sigh, made soft by the contentment in his low breath, fluttered around them. She smiled down at the vanity, her heart still rushing from the suddenness of his arrival and his affections, but he caught her thinly pressed lips on her reflection. But even the slightest of her expressions were always so vivid to him; the candlelight could have been absent and he believed he still would have seen.<p>

He murmured, "Ah, though I could do nothing to lessen your beauty, do not let me interrupt you, my princess..."

It seemed, however, that he had every intention of stopping himself from interrupting her further. He adjusted his hold over her hand, and began smoothly guiding the brush through her hair. Each stroke was carefully painless, though she could feel him working out what few knots there were as they glided along her waving locks together.

"My prince... what are you doing...?" She straightened primly, trying to glance back over her shoulder at him, though again the mirror served him well enough, showing her quiet blush clearly on its silver surface. He shook his head, taking a step back to maneuver more easily and angling her face with a slight touch against her cheek.

"After interrupting you so rudely before, should I not make it up to you...? It is, after all, only fitting for me to show my gratitude for having such a lovely princess..."

His voice might have taken on a playfully teasing tone, but there was too much honesty in the words for her to be bothered by it.


	4. Chapter 4

Written for the MythoxRue clubs contest on deviantArt, with the theme of "Crow Feathers." I am actually pretty satisfied with this, even if it is basically Siegfried talking about Rue's hair.

Princess Tutu and all its characters belong to Itoh Ikuko.

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><p>As often as she had come to be told of her beauty, Rue would always have to despise a piece of it, whether she could bring herself to believe any of it or not.<p>

_Like ravens' feathers..._

Whispered as she passed, often with wonder and never with fear- though the people of her prince's kingdom would have every reason to fear ravens, his return seemed to have banished their troubles- she found the comparison sickening. That it fit so well only made it harsher.

So it was a surprise for her one evening, when her prince, sitting beside her on an elaborate garden bench that looked shoddily made compared to his features, turned to her and said, "I have always loved the way your hair looks in this light, my princess..."

For them, _always_ had become a small amount of time. A few years. There had been time before that, and neither of them could forget, but they had an _always_to share between them, and that was what mattered in this moment.

"...You think so...?" She replied mildly; her pale index finger stood out clearly from the finely wrought iron as it began to tap against the armrest. He nodded, and she pressed him before she could stop herself, revealing some of her bitterness. "So it doesn't remind you of a raven's feathers, does it?"

His immediate certainty startled her, she had expected hesitation, and an attempt at justification. No doubt the effort would have been flawless, and she would have been appeased, but it did not seem that he needed one. "No."

She couldn't think of anything to say, but her faint sigh made his eyebrows arch thoughtfully. There was a fragile pause as he cast his dewdrop eyes downward, brushing along his own silk-clad arm, and remembering something from a different world. Then, he reached out, and claimed a strand of her hair to run through his fingers.

"A raven's feathers," he began, "are unfriendly to the touch, bristling against the skin... Not so perfectly smooth and soft."

His hand moved upward, adjusting some stray locks that had fallen into her face. He held them back for a moment, to take in the picture of her against the sunset, and then allowed them to tumble back.

"A raven's feathers take the light from the world... They do not reflect it back and make it more lovely than it was before..."

He settled his arms about her, pulling her close to him and resting his face against the top of her head.

"A raven's feathers smelled of blood and decay... Not the lingering sweetness of roses..."

She leaned against him, trusting herself to him, and he placed a kiss atop her head.

"No, my princess. Your hair is nothing like a raven's feathers."


	5. Chapter 5

This was actually started last night in my notebook, hence why the beginning is definitely better... But I've really been missing writing things like this, lately. So, here's something, at least!

Princess Tutu and all related characters belong to Itoh Ikuko and HAL Film Maker.

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><p>Siegfried leaned across the bed, pressing a hand to the princess' shoulder to rouse her.<p>

"My princess... My princess, please wake..." He felt her first stirrings run through her under his touch, and his open, joyful gaze sparked when it met her eyes, gracefully half-lidded and drowsy.

"Mmm... Good morning, my prince..." She blinked slowly at him, her lips still parted by a question she would not ask for fear of being rude to him. His answer, at first, was just as silent; he took her hand in a grip that, despite its tenderness, gave more than enough support to help her out from beneath the sheets. Seeing her rise, the nightgown's delicate fabric falling perfectly to sway at her ankles and her hair more unruly than he would have thought possible without lovely moments like this, led him to embrace her. He gave her a kiss in the center of her forehead, briefly catching a single curl between his lips and her skin.

She leaned her head against his chest, near enough for him to feel her warm breath against his nightshirt, and allowed herself to close her eyes again. Though he was loathe to disturb her again, especially because they both favored this stance much more, he stepped aside. "Look, my princess..."

His arm arched out in a grand gesture, fingers uncurling in the direction of the balcony. He still kept the other arm around her shoulder, however, as they walked out together, falling into step without realizing it even over such a short distance. When she walked out, her mouth opened wordlessly and her eyebrows lifted to softly emphasize the emotion. She looked over to see him smile, tinted by the pale gold of a vividly gentle sunrise. Pinks and purples dripped in pastel shades above the horizon, with pale blue beginning to sweep up through the sky. The colors took such care in their arrangement that they might have been painted to be just so. Indeed, it was enough like a picture in a book that Rue had to wonder if she would find the scene painted on one of the pages of the story that held them now.

"Oh, my prince..." She whispered, shivering in the morning chill and prompting him to pull her against him again. As beautiful as the sunrise was, she found it easy to tip her head up and look into his eyes, instead. She was too taken aback to keep her voice entirely steady. "You... wanted to show me this...?"

"Yes," he said quietly, nodding. Smoothly, he added, " More than that, I... wanted to share it with you. Does it suit you?"

Of course, for all his power as a prince, there was not a great deal he could do if the sunrise did not suit her, but he had felt it best to ask regardless.

"It is perfect, my prince..." She told him, and yet the sky had not received another glance from her, nor did she intend to give it one. Her attentions were solely for him, and the leaping of her pulse at the excitement in his eyes. He had been so greatly moved by the morning light, when not too long ago, it would have been only a reflection in that gold.

He had wished to have that happiness with her, when not too long ago, he would have fled from her.

However, as though he had seen the sour turn of her thoughts in their mingling gazes, he chose then to bring his lips to hers and remind her of their closeness. Though he withdrew a few moments later to peer out at the fantastic display in the sky, he truthfully would not have wished to pull away any time before the sun rose fully over the horizon.


	6. Chapter 6

Just an idea that came into my head. Nothing really special here, but I kind of like how it turned out!

Princess Tutu and its characters do not belong to me. They are Itoh Ikuko's.

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><p>Siegfried could recall the jagged brush of Princess Kraehe's lips against his own; a fractured touch certain of nothing but how she would lose him, a kiss pressed painfully close, because at least pain wasn't loneliness.<p>

He recalled it in fleeting moments, the pain of his princess that he still saw in her blood-drenched eyes sometimes, when the shadows were thickest or when stormclouds blossomed. Her lips would part with something she could never say, her own memory, and he was be drawn to the perfect curve of them.

He slipped the tips of his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her gaze, meeting it for an instant that halted both their hearts. Just as quickly, his smooth kiss replaced tainted recollections with who they truly were.


	7. Chapter 7

And it's time for more drabbles!

Soon, it shall be Ruetho Week, as well. Starting January 29th and going to February 4th, a celebration of Rue and Mytho's relationship~ Links to more information can be found on my profile page!

As usual, Princess Tutu and its characters do not belong to me. They are Itoh Ikuko's.

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><p><em><em>And they lived happily ever after.<em>_

When he thought back to the day his story ended and he was told to live, Siegfried remembered that he had never been given any "happily ever after." The words of the young and hopeful writer who had ended the story had been to live freely.

To live __freely ever after__. To suffer, because there was still pain, and to heal, because of love, itself given freely.

If the remnants of corruption had simply been buried, as easily covered by those final words as a grave concealed by dirt, the prince wondered if that poison would have wormed into deeper roots behind their smiles.

But as he dried his princess' tears when they came, and as she showed him, when his brow furrowed with doubts, that shadows could hold just as much beauty as pure light, he knew that he would never have wanted a __happily ever after___._ As monarchs and as tenderhearted lovers, he and his princess made their own joy.


End file.
